


23

by Augustus



Category: NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-18
Updated: 2003-10-18
Packaged: 2018-03-12 01:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3338735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Augustus/pseuds/Augustus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris makes Justin wait.</p>
            </blockquote>





	23

**Author's Note:**

> Credits: All definitions courtesy of the OED.

 

_i. genesis  
(gen’esis – n. origin, mode of formation or generation) _

Justin was fifteen when he walked into Chris’ hotel room and told him that he loved him. Chris knew, with all the accumulated wisdom of a twenty-five year old, that teenagers get silly ideas into their heads at times. He smiled carefully and tried not to picture his best friend naked. Chris was never very good at self control.

 

 

_ii. temptation  
(tempta’tion – n. incitement esp. to sin; thing that attracts, attractive course) _

Justin is young and pretty and worships Chris absolutely. Chris thinks that he should probably have less in common with a boy ten years his junior, but they clicked from the very beginning and now it’s hard to imagine life before Justin was around. The other guys tease him at times, for choosing to hang out with the infant, but Justin understands the artistic credibility of a practical joke and will listen for hours when Chris is in one of his talkative moods.

Justin tends not to listen to reason when it conflicts with his own point of view. He waits in silence while arguments are placed before him, but ultimately remains immovable. Sometimes, Chris has to remind himself that Justin is just a teenager, despite his confidence and the self-awareness that twitches within his limbs. Occasionally, Chris can glimpse Justin’s youth in his eyes or in the infectious brilliance of a genuine grin, but usually it hides beneath polished professionalism and a carefully arranged, arrogant smile.

Chris loves the other guys like brothers, but perhaps Justin most of all. Justin is warm, his faith is unerring and his loyalty overwhelms even his most insurmountable prima donna ways. There are days when Chris can see the Justin that might have been, glinting beneath the gloss and shine of fame. His stomach twists with pride and devotion and a suffocating desire to protect. Some days, Justin feels almost fragile within the friendly encircling of Chris’ arms.

Justin’s mouth is perfect and he pouts like a professional, eyes damp and limpid beneath the weight of his demands. He wears naïve sexuality like an accessory and sometimes Chris wonders whether Justin understands the extent of his appeal. There is nothing flawed in Justin’s face or his stance and when he dances there are times when Chris is forced to look away for fear of his life slipping from his control.

Justin is golden and precious and enfolded in danger. Chris knows better than to watch too intensely or to let Justin settle for too long within his tentative embrace. Chris may be a little misguided at times but he isn’t a complete fool. When it comes to Justin Timberlake, ‘look but don’t touch’ is not so much a cliché as it is a mantra for Chris to live by.

Justin is Chris’ best friend. Any more than that would be wrong.

 

 

_iii. phase  
(phase – n. stage of change or development; aspect of situation or question) _

“I love you.”

Chris hadn’t expected such a declaration when he opened his hotel room door to find his best friend standing rigidly in the hall outside. Frowning, he ushered Justin inside.

“I love you too, man,” he replied, bemused, “but you’d be best not to say that shit where Lou could hear you, y’know. I mean, _I_ know you don’t mean it like that, but it _does_ sound kinda gay and Lou has such a complex about that sort of thing.”

Justin pouted, causing Chris’ stomach to twist queasily within him. “What if I _did_ mean it like that?” he asked petulantly.

Chris contemplated the possibility for about three seconds before bursting into loud, raucous laughter. “Good one,” he spluttered between cackles, pulling Justin a little further into the room so that he could close the door behind him.

“You never take me seriously,” Justin whined, throwing himself down onto Chris’ bed and raising his gaze to glare accusingly at his best friend.

“What do you expect, when you say ridiculous things like that?” His laughter finally subsiding into the occasional strangled giggle, Chris joined Justin on the bed.

“I don’t see what’s so damn ridiculous about it,” Justin muttered, suddenly unwilling to meet Chris’ eyes.

“You’re ten years younger than me, for starters,” Chris began, “and you’re about the straightest guy I ever met. Not to mention the rather important issue of you being Golden Boy, while I’m just the old, weird one, who’s there to keep the rest of you in line.”

“ _You_? Keep _us_ in line?” Justin asked incredulously, momentarily distracted from the subject at hand.

“Well, they don’t keep me around for my stunning good looks,” Chris argued, rolling his eyes.

“I think you’re gorgeous.”

At first, Chris thought Justin was merely being loyal, if a little unconvincing. Justin’s voice was unusually hesitant, though, and his eyes were wide with disconcerting vulnerability and suddenly Chris wasn’t quite so sure about anything at all.

“You should get your eyes checked,” he said quickly, trying to diffuse the moment with a little humour, but Justin was not going to be so easily dissuaded.

“I know what I see,” he insisted, “and I know what I want.”

Chris, foolishly, raised an eyebrow in what could be perceived as a silent question.

Justin wrapped a hand around the back of Chris’ neck. “I want you,” he concluded, the moment surreal and blindingly acute.

Before Chris could open his mouth to protest or to silence Justin with hysterical laughter, his lips were covered in the gentlest kiss that he had ever experienced. The soft, maddening sensation of Justin’s mouth against his own didn’t feel like a joke or even one of Justin’s more elaborate schemes.

Instinctively, Chris’ eyes fluttered closed, as Justin’s hand tightened around his neck. His own hands remained frozen at his sides, supporting his weight at the awkward angle that was formed as he leaned into Justin’s kiss. His neck protested mildly as Justin pulled him closer still, but Chris ignored the warm glow of pain, concentrating instead on the lazy brush of Justin’s tongue and the sweetly rhythmic movement of Justin’s fingers against his skin.

When the kiss ended, Chris felt quite sure that he would never be able to think or breathe again. Justin watched him with dazed eyes, his lips red and swollen and so implicitly tempting that Chris had to close his eyes for fear of falling even further into something that he was going to regret.

“I love you,” Justin murmured, his voice cracked and overwhelmed.

Chris wanted to believe him.

 

 

_iv. obsession  
(obsess’ – v.t. haunt, harass, preoccupy, fill mind of. So obse’ssion – n.) _

Justin has always had the ability to tangle Chris’ breath into tight and painful knots. He knows the way to look at Chris so that Chris is left exposed, unable to defend himself at all in the face of Justin’s will and wants. He lowers his lashes and bites his lower lip in a youthful imitation of all of the clichés that he’s ever seen. Chris realises that much of what Justin is consists of front and glitter, but he also knows Justin well enough to see through the act and to the teenager underneath.

He likes the sparkle, but it’s the true Justin who fills his dreams at night.

 

 

_v. denial  
(deni’al – n. statement that thing is not true or existent, contradiction) _

“Why not?” Justin’s voice is cool and fragile in the silence of Chris’ hotel room. “I don’t understand.”

“I care about you, Justin, I really do, but it just can’t happen.”

“Why not?” Justin repeated, his jaw tight and stubborn.

“You’re too young.” Chris frowned, flustered, and ran an awkward hand through his hair. “Or maybe I’m too old… although I guess it doesn’t matter which way you put it. It’s still illegal.”

“I wouldn’t tell anyone.” Justin moved forward, his expression too innocent to truly be trusted.

“That doesn’t make it right.” Chris wished that he could miraculously thrust himself and Justin forward in time, but the reality of the situation was that Justin was going to remain fifteen – albeit an incredibly tempting and seductive fifteen – and therefore out of bounds.

“It _feels_ right.”

Suddenly, Justin’s voice wasn’t quite so confident and his gaze wasn’t nearly so self-assured. His lower lip trembled slightly, whether through true emotion or force of dramatic habit, and Chris’ resolve quivered in sympathetic response.

Closing his eyes, he shook his head. “That’s not the point.”

“It should be.” Justin wrapped his arms around Chris’ waist, a gesture of affection that Chris automatically reciprocated. His breath was hot against Chris’ cheek as he spoke. “If I love you and you love me, then that’s all that should matter.”

Chris fidgeted nervously within his best friend’s embrace. “When I said I loved you, I didn’t know what you were talking about. I thought it was just a buddy thing, y’know?”

Justin stiffened slightly. “You do, though,” he argued, possibly a little more hesitantly than he would have liked.

“You’re _fifteen_.” Chris shrugged, forcing himself to meet Justin’s eyes. “You’re meant to be going to school dances and playing basketball with your friends, not hanging around with some lecherous twenty-five year old who really should know better.”

“You’re so hung up on the age thing,” Justin grumbled. “I don’t see why it matters so much. You know I’m not an ordinary fifteen year old.”

Chris closed his eyes for a second, praying that he might regain some of the mental strength that seemed to slowly be ebbing away. “That’s the whole point,” he said finally, once his mind had calmed a little. “I don’t want to be yet another reason why you can’t be a normal teenager. You deserve better than that.” He shrugged, his voice growing a little stronger as he began to believe his own words. “You deserve better than me.”

Justin was not going to be so easily dissuaded, however. Slumping, he bent his head against Chris’ shoulder, his fingers smoothing an insistent reminder along the ridge of Chris’ spine. “I don’t believe you,” he argued quietly. “I know what I want and that’s not going to change, no matter _how_ old I am.”

Chris shook his head and slid his fingers through the soft curls at the nape of Justin’s neck. “It’ll change,” he replied firmly. “When you’re sixteen, seventeen, twenty-fucking-five, you’ll cringe at the memory of this and wonder how the hell you ever thought that I was even remotely attractive.”

“You’re wrong.” The whine in Justin’s tone wasn’t fading. “I love you. That sort of thing doesn’t just fade away.”

“It does when you’re fifteen.”

Chris was glad that he couldn’t see Justin’s face. He wasn’t sure that he would be able to be quite so decided if he was forced to look at the frustration and confusion that undoubtedly shone from his best friend’s eyes.

“It won’t.”

There was so much passion and misplaced conviction in Justin’s voice that Chris had to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing out loud at the unbelievable _wrongness_ of the moment. It was as though someone had delved deep within his subconscious and retrieved all of his most denied dreams so that his strength and morality could be thoroughly tested.

“How about this?” he began, when he could finally trust himself to speak without laughing. “If you still feel this way when you’re my age, we can discuss it again.”

Justin pulled back sharply, glaring at Chris in stunned indignation. “But that’s ten years from now!” he protested.

Chris shrugged. “I thought you said that your feelings weren’t going to fade away.”

Justin glared at him, not pleased at having his own words used against him. “That’s not the point. Why not when I’m sixteen? I’ll be allowed to get my licence in two months’ time.”

“I’m not a car, Justin,” Chris laughed.

“Eighteen, then,” Justin argued.

Chris just shook his head.

“This isn’t fair,” Justin whined. “If you were just worried about my age, you’d be fine with eighteen. That’s legal pretty much _anywhere_!”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Maybe if I were a girl, it would be.”

Frustrated, Justin buried his head back within the folds of Chris’ shirt. “Twenty-one,” he muttered finally, a hint of defeat discernible in the tone of his muffled voice. “If I’m old enough to drink, I’ll be old enough to know whether or not I’m in love with you. Right?”

“When I was twenty-one, I thought I was in love with Howie Dorough. I was wrong.” Chris shook his head, immovable. “Twenty-five, Justin.”

Justin lifted his head, his eyes glinting with something that Chris couldn’t quite define. “How about a compromise?” he suggested briskly. “You say twenty-five; I say twenty-one. We should make it twenty-three.”

Chris thought for a long time, unwilling to change his standpoint but aware that twenty-three still allowed for more than seven years’ worth of opportunities for Justin to change his mind and find someone a lot more worthy to fall in love with. “Okay,” he said finally. “Twenty-three it is.”

Justin smiled and tightened his embrace. “I guess that’s better than nothing,” he offered, his eyes shining with teenaged optimism. “I can wait.”

Chris tried not to wonder how soon Justin would forget such admirable conviction, instead forcing himself to concentrate on the knowledge that he was doing the right thing, “I have another condition,” he said quickly, before he lost his courage and changed his mind. “You’re not allowed to bring this up again. At least, not until you’re twenty-three.”

“That’s a little over the top, isn’t it?” Justin laughed.

“Promise,” Chris demanded, his voice firm. When Justin didn’t reply immediately, he repeated the word, almost shouting the order. “Promise!”

Hurt, Justin pulled away from Chris, turning his back to his best friend and dropping his head. “I promise,” he said quietly, a slight quiver within his voice. “But I have a condition too.”

Chris frowned. “What?” he asked warily.

“Admit it.” Justin’s shoulders straightened a little as he spoke. “Admit that you’re in love with me.”

“Justin,” Chris began, running trembling fingers through his hair. His stomach felt heavy and as though it had been tangled into knots. “It’s not going to make any difference…”

“Admit it.” When Justin turned to look at Chris, his face was tight and expressionless. “Please.”

Swallowing compulsively, Chris reached out to brush a stray curl away from Justin’s forehead. “It’ll only make this harder for me,” he said quietly. “Ask me again when you’re twenty-three.”

The strong lines of Justin’s face collapsed at precisely the moment that Chris felt his own heart break in two.  
  


 

_vi. rebound  
(rebound’ – v. spring back after impact, have reactive effect, recoil upon agent) _

Justin is too young for endless regret. He pouts over Chris’ rejection for eleven days, then turns his attention back to performing and joking with the other guys. It takes a while longer for him to settle back into the innocuous familiarity of Chris’ friendship, but it is only a matter of weeks before they are back to the usual hugs and laughter, the decision that was made in Chris’ hotel room seemingly forgotten.

Chris doesn’t forget. He watches in silence and cloying remorse as Justin grows more beautiful and more unattainable with every passing week. He tries not to think too much about the things that might have been, instead relying on headlocks and noogies to express the constancy of his affection.

They become famous, then _really_ famous, and it is as though Justin shines a little more brightly with every CD sold. He thrives beneath the spotlight, working the cameras with the sort of ease that Chris will never possess. After the performances, though, once the endless stream of interviews is complete, it is still Chris who he turns to for validation and reassurance.

There are girls for both of them. Justin dates a faceless stream of blonde Europeans, then turns to Homecoming Queens once they’re back in the States. Chris is a little more selective and a little less enthusiastic, but then he meets Dani and suddenly everything seems worthwhile.

Justin and Britney get together and it’s all just a little too perfect once the prince and princess of pop are sharing the same spotlight in each others’ arms. Chris likes Britney, but she seems very young at times. Justin tells Chris that Dani is good for him and Chris can’t see any reason why he shouldn’t agree. When he kisses Dani, he forgets to think about Justin or to replay the sensation of the brush of his lips.

Chris loves Dani. The emotion seems obvious and sacrosanct. He thinks that Justin loves Britney too, both for who she is and for the publicity she awards.

Chris is happy, but he doesn’t forget. He just pushes the thoughts aside.

 

 

_vii. solace  
(sol’ace – n. comfort in distress or disappointment or tedium) _

The first time that Chris saw Justin after it happened, Justin didn’t bother with a hello or any of the usual small talk, instead sliding his body into Chris’ embrace and whispering, his breath warm against the crown of Chris’ head, “Britney and I broke up.”

Chris thought better of asking questions, pulling Justin into his living room and leaving him on the sofa while he fetched beer and glasses from the kitchen. Justin preferred to drink straight from the bottle, staring silently at the blank expanse of the opposite wall until two thirds of his drink had disappeared.

When he finally spoke again, Justin’s voice was quiet and collected. “It turns out she’s been cheating on me,” he stated mildly. “God knows how long it’s been going on for, but I had to find out from _him_ , of all people.” Turning to look at Chris, Justin regarded him with accusative eyes. “Please tell me that you didn’t know about this. I’ll die if you and the others are more interested in protecting me than in letting me know the truth.”

Chris took a large gulp of his drink before responding. “You know I wouldn’t do that.”

Justin watched him carefully for a while longer, before eventually nodding and looking away. “God, Chris, he was meant to be my friend,” he said, his voice tight and alien sounding.

“Who was?” Chris asked, confused.

Justin grimaced. “Wade.”

Stunned, Chris didn’t attempt to make excuses for their mutual friend, instead rising from his seat and moving over to join Justin on the couch. He raised his arm and Justin quickly accepted the invitation, curling into his best friend’s arms as though he was fifteen years old again and feeling homesick and uncertain. It didn’t seem to matter that Justin had long since grown too tall for the embrace to be entirely comfortable and Chris wasn’t about to ask him to move, even though Justin’s weight soon began to cut off the circulation to his arm.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked awkwardly, always more comfortable with cracking jokes than with the more traditional forms of comfort.

“Not really.” Justin plucked erratically at the fabric of Chris’ tee shirt. “It just hurts, y’know?”

Chris thought back to the day when he and Dani had chosen to go their separate ways, then back even further to one evening, in his hotel room, so many years before. “I know,” he replied quietly, smoothing the short strands of hair at the nape of Justin’s neck.

“I hate that I still love her,” Justin continued pitifully. “You’d think I’d be able to make it go away.”

“It doesn’t work that way, kiddo.”

“It should.” Justin’s voice hardened as he continued, his fingers ceasing their compulsive motion and tightening into a fist, Chris’ tee shirt remaining caught within their grasp. “I’m not going to let her know, though. I’m gonna make her wish that she’d never even met him. I’m going to go out there and date other girls – hell, I’ll date a few guys too, just for good measure – and she is going to be so sorry that any of this ever happened.”

“Since when do you date men, J?” Chris asked, bemused.

There was a short pause before Justin replied. “…Well, maybe not guys, then,” he clarified.

Chris felt a brief twang of pain within his chest, but he ignored it, drowning any regret with another large mouthful of beer. “You don’t have to prove anything to her.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I want to,” Justin shrugged. “Maybe I should have finished with her long ago. I’m too young for forever.”

Chris didn’t argue. He just held Justin a little tighter and tried not to think too much.

 

 

_viii. onward  
(on’ward – adv. further on, with advancing motion) _

Justin prefers to date older women, preferably in their early thirties. He doesn’t distinguish between blonde and brunette, as long as his object of affection is stunning and unavoidably famous. Chris thinks that Alyssa is sweet, but she doesn’t last long, quickly trying of publicity and Justin’s endless talk of Britney.

Cameron is different. She will hold Justin’s hand in public and smile prettily when the media asks her to comment on the relationship. Justin tells his friends that it could be love and Chris tries not to be too much of a cynic, instead clapping Justin on the shoulder and wishing him all the best.

It’s not that Chris doesn’t like Cameron. He does. He always liked Britney and Cameron’s just who Britney is going to be in another ten years time. Justin shies from the connection and Chris soon learns not to mention it. The important thing is that Justin’s happy and that Cameron doesn’t mind making the teenie-mags every time she’s seen on her boyfriend’s arm.

Chris thinks that it must be nice to be twenty-two and dating a famous movie star. He dates anonymous girls and has the occasional brief liaison with a suitably savvy guy. The others joke about it being time for him to settle down, but Chris prefers the security of things that are temporary to the possibility of actually falling in love. He’s not sure that he believes in forever any more.

When he mentions it to Justin, his best friend just shakes his head and looks away. Chris wonders if Justin and Cameron will end up getting married. He feels like the most selfish person in the world for hoping that they don’t.

Chris doesn’t like weddings. They always leave him feeling as though he’s being left behind.

 

 

_ix. possibility  
(possibil’ity – n. capability of being used, improved, etc.; thing that may exist or happen) _

Justin called at 7:54pm on Christmas Day. Chris would have phoned his best friend earlier, but he was always wary of interrupting the rare time that Justin got to spend with his family, especially now that Cameron was around.

“What’s up, dawg?” Justin greeted him, as if it were any other day of the year.

“Oh, you know,” Chris replied, shrugging even though Justin couldn’t see the gesture. “I’ve been poked, prodded and interrogated by various family members all day long. Just the usual.”

Justin laughed. “I know the feeling.”

“So, what did you get for Christmas?” Chris prompted. “Your two front teeth?”

“Something like that.” There was a moment of silence before Justin continued. “I broke up with Cameron.”

Chris didn’t speak straight away, instead waiting until the full meaning of Justin’s words began to form inside his head. “On _Christmas Day_?”

“Of course not,” Justin said quickly. “I’m not that much of a bastard. I told her yesterday.”

“Oh, well, that’s _fine_ then,” Chris replied, bemused.

“Okay, so my timing sucked,” Justin admitted. “That’s not the point. It had to be done, yo. Why wait for a day with no holiday significance?”

Chris frowned, already a little confused. “I thought things were going well between you guys. Hell, your mom likes her and everything.”

“Yeah, well, it was never going to be forever,” Justin said flippantly.

“It looked pretty serious to me.”

“She’s a good girl. But I’m getting older – it’s my birthday in a month, y’know - and it was time to call an end to it all. She’s not my soulmate.”

“Soulmate?” Chris laughed tightly. “Don’t tell me you still believe in that rubbish, J.”

“Don’t try to tell me that you _don’t_ ,” Justin threw back, unaffected by Chris’ incredulity.

“I’ve been waiting too long to believe in fairytales,” Chris said bluntly. “These days I’m happy to settle for a passably-good fuck.”

Justin laughed. “Old man.”

“Tell me about it. My joints are starting to creak when I first wake up in the morning.”

“Idiot.”

“I only wish I was joking!”

“You’re not quite geriatric yet.”

Chris could almost hear Justin rolling his eyes at the other end of the line. “It’s easy for _you_ to say that, Infant.”

“Oh, that’s _very_ nice,” Justin teased. “I call you up to wish you a merry Christmas and all you can do is call me names.”

“Just call me Scrooge,” Chris said lightly. “Merry Christmas yourself.”

“We’ll have to hook up sometime soon.” Justin changed the subject, suddenly efficient. “I should have a bit of time off towards the end of next month.”

“Not that you’re angling for a birthday present or anything…”

“Not at all.” Justin had the nerve to sound indignant. “Can’t a guy want to see his best buddy without being suspected of an ulterior motive?”

“Not when _you’re_ the guy.”

Justin laughed. “I gotta go,” he said warmly. “Merry Christmas. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Long after he’d said his goodbyes, Chris kept the telephone pressed close to his ear, the steady chime of the dial tone serving as a masochistic reminder of just how far away Justin really was.

 

 

_x. fixation  
(fixa’tion – n. fixing, being fixed; process of rendering solid; arrested mental development) _

Chris thinks about it more than he’d like to admit. Seven years have passed, but he still asks himself daily whether he did the right thing. Justin has only grown more beautiful over the years and it makes Chris shiver involuntarily at the thought that once, long ago, his golden best friend had actually been attainable.

He doesn’t speak of it to anyone, but the other guys know. Occasionally, they’ll tease him a little when Justin’s not around, but most of the time they limit their comments to knowing looks and the occasional raised eyebrow when they feel that it is warranted. Even JC is uncharacteristically tactful when it comes to Justin, his silence often maintained with a quick jab of Lance or Joey’s elbow.

Once, when Justin was eighteen, Joey tried to raise the subject with Chris. The reaction he received then continues to ensure the ongoing interdiction of any related conversation.

Chris doesn’t want to talk about something that isn’t about to change. He knows that he should leave his circling thoughts behind, but such well-meaning resolutions are far from easy when Justin’s never far away from Chris’ mind, if not his arms.

Chris’ only consolation is his conviction that Justin remains blissfully unaware of the more lascivious notions that are want to enter Chris’ head. Justin’s affection is constant and unchanging. Sometimes, Chris feels like the only thing that he can rely on in his life is the knowledge that Justin will always be there for him if Chris needs him to be around. Justin is brash and materialistic, arrogant and disarmingly stubborn, but when he loves someone, his loyalty is boundless. It’s one of the reasons why Chris forgives his best friend for all his not-so-minor faults.

Sometimes, Chris wonders how different his life would be if Justin had never approached him on that night so long ago. He contemplates a thousand possibilities but they all seem to end with the one, unchangeable conclusion. He would have loved Justin anyway. He can’t imagine things turning out any other way.

 

 

_xi. revolution  
(revolu’tion – n. circular course; complete change, great reversal of conditions) _

Chris opened his front door expecting Mormons or rabid fans. His mouth set in his best I-really-don’t-have-time-for-this smile, he waited to be flooded with scripture or superlatives but instead found himself with an armful of Justin Timberlake.

“What are you doing here?” he spluttered, genuinely astounded, once he’d extracted himself enough to be able to draw a breath.

“Can’t a guy visit his friend without it being cause for alarm?” Justin teased, ushering Chris inside before picking up the sports bag at his feet and following Chris into the hall.

“You didn’t say you were coming.” Not wanting Justin to feel unwelcome, Chris grinned sheepishly and quickly added, “Not that I’m not happy that you’re here…”

“I couldn’t be sure that I’d be able to take off until today.” Smiling, Justin held out one hand. “Well…?”

“Well what?” Taking Justin’s bag, Chris tucked it into a corner before leading the way into the kitchen. Once he had switched on the coffee pot, he turned back to face Justin, regarding him quizzically.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what day it is.”

Chris frowned. “It’s Thursday, isn’t it?”

“God, how long has it been since you left the house?” Justin laughed. “It’s Saturday, you idiot.”

“Saturday?” Chris contemplated the concept before finally deciding that Justin had no reason to lie about something as insignificant as the day of the week. “I guess I should get a calendar or some-…” He trailed off mid-sentence as the true impact of his mistake began to make itself clear. “Shit! Happy Birthday!” he exclaimed, in as apologetic a voice as he could muster.”

“Thank you,” Justin said graciously. “Now, if you haven’t bought me a present, the least you can do is get me a cup of that coffee.”

Chris did as he was told, but not before grabbing Justin in a brief but affectionate headlock, doing his best to disarrange the short strands of his recently cut hair.

They didn’t speak again until they were seated in Chris’ living room, each clutching mismatched mugs of freshly brewed coffee.

“I could have sworn it was Thursday,” Chris said sheepishly. “It’s lucky I didn’t have an important date.”

“You’re dating?” Justin asked sharply. “Why didn’t _I_ know anything about this?”

“Because it’s not true,” Chris laughed. “God, J, since when did you get so interested in my love life?”

“Shut up,” Justin muttered petulantly.

“It sounds like it’s about time you got another girlfriend,” Chris went on, ignoring his friend. “Sheesh. It’s only been a month since you and Cameron broke up.”

“I don’t want another girlfriend,” Justin mumbled.

“Give it another month or two and you’ll be singing a different song…”

Justin looked plaintively at Chris for a drawn-out moment before replying. “You don’t remember, do you?”

Chris’ stomach fluttered nervously, but he forcefully quelled the unwanted feeling of excitement that was doing its best to overwhelm him. “Remember what?” he asked, amazed at how light and uninterested his voice sounded.

“It’s my birthday.” When Justin received no further response, he went on. “I’m twenty-three.”

“I know that.” Chris’ voice was beginning to sound considerably less composed, but he had a feeling that it might now be officially beyond his control.

“I told you something, more than seven years ago.” Justin sounded a little shaky himself, a fact that was both disconcerting and entirely out of character. “But, if you don’t remember, then it’s okay. I promise I won’t bring it up again.”

Chris stared at his best friend, incredulous. “Of course I remember!” he finally managed to choke out. “It’s not the sort of thing you just forget over the years.”

“Well?” Justin shrugged, the gesture almost defiant, although Chris knew him too well to miss the uncertainty beneath his words. “You said that you would reconsider if I came to you again when I was twenty-three.”

Suddenly uneasy, Chris looked around the room, certain that a shadow or a piece of furniture must be harbouring a laughing Ashton Kutcher, ready to jump out and shout that he was being punk’d as soon as he let his guard down. “This is a joke, right?” he growled, once his visual search revealed no cameras or huddled figures. “One of the other guys put you up to it. JC, I suppose?”

Justin frowned. “You _told_ them?” he asked, his voice tight and actually rather menacing sounding, if Chris truly cared to admit it.

“What, about that night? Of course not!” he replied quickly. “Just, y’know, they’re all pretty good at guessing things and Joey knows me _way_ too fucking well for my liking…”

Justin’s frown melted almost instantaneously. “So you’ll reconsider, then?”

Chris stared at him in absolute disbelief. “Okay, now you really _are_ trying to take me for a ride.”

Justin laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself, Kirkpatrick. I’ve got better things to do on my birthday than to worry about fooling _your_ ass!”

“Of course,” Chris replied sarcastically. “You’re just here because you’ve been in love with me for seven years, right?”

“Right.”

Justin looked a little too serious for Chris’ liking. Usually you could spot a joke by the slight twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips or a telltale squint to his left eye, but Justin’s face remained motionless and almost serene. Placing his empty mug on the coffee table in front of him, he raised his gaze to look Chris straight in the eye, unblinking and humourless.

“So, here’s the deal,” Justin went on, scooting a little closer to Chris on the couch. “I’m pretty sure that you’re still in love with me and I _know_ that I’m still in love with you, so I figure that it’s about time that we both did something about it. You can’t possibly say that I’m too young to understand what I’m talking about this time around. We both know that I’m more than capable of thinking for myself. And I think – _know_ – that I want to be with you.”

Chris soundlessly opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally managing to form an audible response. “But you don’t _date_ guys,” he said, feeling as though he was suffocating in his own disbelief.

“What? And compare them all to you?” Justin shook his head vehemently. “It wouldn’t have been right.”

Chris closed his eyes and waited for things to return to normal. Instead of a miraculous realignment of events, however, all that happened was that his heart pounded a little faster in his chest and his throat felt a little tighter from the strain of forcing himself to breathe. Finally, once he had decided that Justin wasn’t likely to simply disappear if he kept his eyes closed for long enough, Chris ventured a quick peek from beneath his eyelashes, only to find Justin’s face hovering only inches away from his own.

“God, what are you doing?” he spluttered, eyes flickering wide open with alarm.

“Kissing you,” Justin replied frankly - and did just that.

Kissing Justin Timberlake was slightly different to how Chris had remembered it. He supposed that seven years of practice would be likely to produce a few changes in all but the most chaste of people. As it was, there was a confidence and fervour to Justin’s kiss that hadn’t been present in Chris’ memories. He wasn’t about to complain, however. Even an innocent peck on the cheek would have been far more than he might ever have expected.

“What was all that about?” Chris asked eventually, once he had recovered from what had effectively amounted to a thorough ravishing on Justin’s behalf.

Justin rolled his eyes. “The self-deprecating routine is getting a little old,” he said, obviously bemused. “I’ve just told you that I’m in love with you and all you can do is babble uncontrollably about how unexpected this all is!”

“How am I supposed to act?” Chris demanded. “A couple of months ago, you were ready to marry Cameron Diaz.”

“A couple of months ago, I was counting down the days until my birthday,” Justin corrected him. “Honestly, Chris, if you’d just believed me when I told you the first time, you would have saved us both a lot of heartache.”

“What? And end up in jail or horribly maimed by your mother?”

Justin’s mouth twisted into a contrived pout. “Surely I’m worth it,” he teased.

Chris smiled. “Maybe.”

“Well?” Only slightly appeased by Chris’ admission, Justin regarded him with one eyebrow raised. “Don’t you have something to tell me?”

“What’s that?” Chris asked, distracted momentarily as Justin looped his arms around Chris’ neck.

“You were about to tell me that you’re head over heels in love with me and that you always have been,” Justin prompted.

“Oh, was I?” Chris laughed.

“Definitely.” Justin nodded seriously. “It’s more than seven years late, but I’ll take what I can get.”

Chris smiled, still trying to come to terms with the turn of events. “Of course I love you,” he said softly. “I loved you when you were fifteen.”

Justin’s smile was pure gold. “I love you too,” he replied, and Chris found himself believing his best friend’s words.

He felt as though he should be more excited by the revelation, but there was something about the moment that was too surreal to warrant anything more than the most basic of emotions. He had loved Justin secretly for what seemed like a lifetime. Now that his unspoken dreams had come suddenly and unexpectedly to fruition, it was impossible to feel anything other than a calm conviction that everything had turned out as it was meant to be.

Then again, Chris had always been an incurable romantic at heart.

Justin kissed him again, pulling away right at the moment when Chris began to feel as though he might actually be physically unable to survive without the warmth of Justin’s lips. “I have a confession to make,” he said sheepishly, unwilling to meet Chris’ eyes.

“What?” Chris asked warily, his shoulders tensing beneath the weight of Justin’s arms.

“I lied earlier. It _is_ Thursday.”

Chris frowned. “Huh?”

“I’ve got to do some big media thing on Saturday. The PR guys said that there was no way that I could get out of it and I didn’t want to wait until the next time I managed to wangle a few days off, so I lied.” Justin smiled guiltily and finally raised his gaze to meet Chris’, his eyes wide and deceptively innocent. “You’re not mad, are you?”

Chris tried to be annoyed by the deception but was highly unsuccessful in the endeavour. “Not at all,” he admitted eventually. “I doubt a couple of days makes much difference when we’ve been waiting for more than seven years.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Justin grinned, and kissed Chris thoroughly in order to punctuate his point.

Chris had a feeling that he should be protesting, but he was far too busy trying to make up for seven years’ worth of lost time to worry about anything but the soothing sensation of Justin’s fingers in his hair and the lazy slide of Justin’s lips against his own.

 

 

_xii. conclusion  
(conclu’sion – n. termination; final result; inference; decision) _

For Chris, the definition of forever is the number twenty-three.

**~fin~  
18th October 2003**


End file.
